Drunk As a Skunk
by tonystarksbackhurts
Summary: What starts out as a drunken mistake, could turn into something serious. How will they make it work with everything going on around them?
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: This is the first story I have written like this! I really hope you guys enjoy it, and please leave me feedback for how I can improve. I love RDR2 so much I can't get enough of it! Sorry if this is kind of short, it'll get longer next time!**

Arthur stared intently at the fire, starting to burn to embers. It was very late, almost everyone in camp had settled down for the night, all except for a few sole members. Arthur, of course, was awake, digging away at the bottle of whiskey in his hand. Uncle was also awake, but not really. His eyes were half closed, ever so slowly drifting towards sleep. Lenny and Javier sat at the poker table, talking in a hushed whisper. Arthur desperately wished he could understand them, but from where he was sitting, they sounded like hissing snakes, and Arthur did not have the energy to move closer. Although she had been tucked away in her tent for a while, Sadie still lay awake, staring into the darkness. The last few months rolled around in her head, as she tossed and turned, playing back all the events that led her to where she is now. From the O'Driscolls to Micah burning down her home and everything she had owned, Sadie had had a rough few months. She sat up in her cot, deciding she had enough. She slowly sauntered towards the campfire, and to her surprise, there sat Arthur. Usually, he was gone at this time of night and would return later the next day. "When did this man sleep?" Sadie thought to herself. Before her first trip to her tent, Sadie had had a few drinks, but she was not nearly as drunk as Arthur. At first, when Sadie sat next to him on the low log, Arthur didn't react, but then he slowly turned his head and stared at Sadie with big, burrowing eyes, burying a hole in Sadie. Sadie didn't want to talk first, so she let Arthur speak.

"Little Sadie Adler, well I'll be! Look whos up!" He spoke loudly, slurring his words. His hot breath drifted into Sadies' face, reeking of whiskey and cigarettes.

"Hey Morgan," Sadie said, not really wanting a conversation with this drunk Arthur. Suddenly, Arthur found something very funny, he laughed for quite a while, before taking a deep breath and finding his words.

"My, my, look at you! How do you even manage to look so damn good?" Arthur asked. He spoke slowly and softly, not as harsh as it was just a few seconds ago. Sadie was shocked. It didn't matter though, because Arthur was drunk as a skunk and would never remember this moment anyway.

"Why you say that, Morgan?" Sadie asked, patiently. Sadie found this side of Arthur quite amusing, he never thought Arthur could be a funny drunk.

"I just, I really like you, Sadie," Arthur said, struggling to get each word out, every one a new challenge.  
"Quite odd Morgan. Quite. But since you're so drunk and won't remember this, maybe I like you too." Sadie said, looking around to see who might still be up. Uncle sat across from them but had long since passed out. Javier and Lenny had ended their conversation, and ended up in their own tents, zipped in tight. Sadie leaned closer to Arthur. Sadie sure would give him hell for this tomorrow, but of course, leave out the part when she said she liked him too. Arthur reached a wobbly hand towards Sadie and softly caressed her face. This moment was the funniest thing to Arthur, and he laughed again, but he was still looking right into Sadies' eyes. Her big brown eyes were lit up by the dying fire. Sadie opened her mouth to speak, but Arthur put his finger on her lips and shushed her. Sadie was quiet as she looked right back into Arthurs stunning eyes. Sadie had never looked at Arthur so closely as he did right now. He wasn't so bad to look at, Sadie thought. She never noticed his stunning eyes, or his handsome jaw and huge shoulders. Arthur began to lean in, closer to Sadie, hand still placed on her face. His hands weren't clammy, but surprisingly smooth on Sadies' face. Sadie was deep in thought about Arthur, still was still, however, returning Arthurs gaze. She was suddenly awoken from this dream-like state, with a deep, longing kiss from Arthur. His smooth lips felt so good on Sadies'. She didn't want this moment to end, but a few seconds later - it did. They kept their eyes still locked, but Arthur began to rise from his spot, whiskey sloshing in the bottle.

"Let me help you back to your tent there, Mr. Morgan," Sadie spouted.

"Naw, I got this one. You get some sleep, Sadie." Arthur was fully standing now, still clutching the mostly empty bottle of whiskey. His first step was successful, but his second, not so much. He tripped over his own foot and ended up face-first in the dirt. Sadie couldn't help but laugh, at the man just a few moments ago, she was lip-locked with. Despite Sadies' best efforts, she couldn't drag Arthur back into his own tent. So she left Arthur in the dirt, passed out, still clutching the bottle. "What, the fuck, just happened." Sadie thought to herself as she made her way back to her own tent. If she had trouble sleeping before, she would have even more now.


	2. Missing Man

**Authors note: I really hope you guys liked the last chapter! This chapter was super fun to write, the dynamic with the camp and all. I know it is not perfect, but I am trying really hard to make this enjoyable! Please leave feedback on how I can improve! Enjoy!**

Arthur woke up to a familiar voice just outside his tent.

"Everyone, everyone listen up!" Dutch shouted. "I know, times have been tough. But we are running low on food! I need someone to step up. Since obviously, our gatherer has been out of commission." That got a chuckle out of some folks. Mostly Micah. Arthur cursed under his breath and began to slip into his boots. His feet slid right into the imprints, he had to remind himself to get new boots next time he was in town. He left his gun belt on his table and reminded himself to get it later. He slowly made his way out of the tent.

"Ah, Arthur! You've finally decided to join us!" Dutch shouted, rich with sarcasm. Arthur rolled his eyes, and continued his 'walk of shame'.

"I haven't been out _that _long," Arthur said, making a point.

"Long enough that we only have enough meat for one more goddamn stew!" Dutch shouted, this time, less sarcastic, and more angry.

"It's only been a day! That's not my goddamn fault Pearson been eating everything we been giving him!" Arthur shouted, much louder then he meant to. The moment they left his lips, he wanted to take them back, to retract them. But it was too late. The whole camp had heard him. Including Pearson, who had turned on his heels and sped away from the rest of the gang. At first, Dutch said nothing. No one did.

"Go," Dutch said. Arthur began to speak but snapped his mouth shut as he looked at everyone's faces. Even John wouldn't even look at him.

Arthur turned his back on the gang and made his way over to his horse, Promenade. The great beast whinnied at the sight of her owner, she sure was hungry. But when Arthur did not feed her, and instead jumped on her back, she reared on her hind legs in anger.

"Shh," Arthur drawled. "It's okay girl." Arthur pulled the reins, and Prom began her trot away from camp. Everyone watched, not realizing the consequences of what just happened.

As Arthur made his way deeper into the heartlands, in search of food, he came across an abandoned camp, rich with canned items. He plopped down off Promenade, who began to munch on the prairie grass and made his way into the camp. The fire was still burning, Arthur searched for footprints just in case, but he couldn't find any. He began to take everything he could use, canned corn and beans, ammo, coffee grounds, he even found some nice animal pelts he could give to Pearson as an apology. He wished he could meet the feller that lived here. Once Arthur had pretty much cleared the campout, he bent down for one last can of beans, which would fill his satchel to the brim. He reached for the can, which was right next to the burning fire when he felt the cool steel of a cattleman's revolver push into the back of his head.

"Now? What do we have here boys?" A man with an Irish accent said, laughing with his friends. O'Driscolls. "Spin around for me, will ya?"

"No," Arthur muttered.

"What was that?" the revolver pushed further into his head, beginning to hurt. Arthur reached his hands above his head, and slowly stand up. What he would do to these fellers once he got his own guns out. Once he turned to face the O'Driscolls, he knew he could take them all down easy. There were three men, the one who stood nearest to him was tall and very lanky. He was so skinny, he looked like he hadn't eaten in days. There were two behind him, one was short and fat, with a thick beard covering his neck, and the other just a boy, 16 or 17 Arthur guessed. It would hurt him to kill the boy, but he had to do it. Just as the nearest O'Driscoll stepped closer to Arthur, he reached for his Mauser pistol that would have been sitting in his holster, except he left his gun belt back at camp. Before he knew it, a bullet pierced his right shoulder. Arthur dropped to his knees in agony, as he moaned and began to bleed profusely, the gaggle of men approached him.

"We got him, boys!" The fat one said.

"Wait a minute, this ain't no regular old criminal," the young one said, "this is Arthur Morgan! From the Van der Linde gang!" He shouted, almost jumping up and down.

The fat one got real close to Arthur's face, starting under the brim of his hat, which was shoved down on his head, covering his eyes.

"Oh my god! It really is him!" The fat one added with glee.

"Colm gon' be real happy about this one! We gettin' paid today, boys!" the taller man said. Arthurs left hand was gripping his shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. 'Come on Dutch,' Arthur thought, 'notice that my gun belt ain't there'. Soon enough, Arthur was beginning to lose consciousness. He felt so woozy, his vision was blurring, and his breath quickened. The first man tried to pick Arthur up, but failed miserably, which resulted in them clattering to the ground together, where Arthurs head smashed into the hard dirt and knocked him out cold.

After a few days of Arthur being missing, the gang was starting to struggle. Dutch was getting so angry with Arthur steam was coming out of his ears. Inside Dutch's tent, sat his newest trusted members of the gang. Hosea, Micah, Bill, and John sat in the tent around the table.

"Where the hell is that bastard!" Dutch said harshly.

"I bet he packed up and left. That was quite the display a few days ago." Micah said. He was trying to calm Dutch but did the exact opposite.

"Oh, come on Dutch. You know how he is, probably just blowing off some steam." Hosea said, always the voice of reason in Dutch's ear.

"I'm worried about him," John said bluntly.

"Why? He'll be fine, he's a grown man," Bill said.

"I know he's a grown man but this isn't like him!" John protested.

"I don't care what he is doing, he can't just leave like this!" Dutch almost shouted."When he gets back he is in _so _much trouble." Dutch stood up, knocking his chair over in the process. He was about to storm out of the tent when Sadie entered.

"Boys, I think we have a problem…" she trailed off. They all knew what she meant, however. She held up Arthur's gun belt, stocked with both his Mauser pistol and Schofield revolver, not to mention, all his ammo. No one said anything for a moment. No one even knew what to say.

"Oh, Arthur…" Dutch said, faintly. All of a sudden, everyone stood up, following phantom directions. The group was quite a sight, leaving from Dutch's tent in a storm of anger and determination, making pace towards their horses.

"Where you guys goin', Dutch," Lenny asked, Javier hot on his trail.

"Arthur," Dutch said, the only word he could muster.  
"What about him?" Javier asked. Sadie, who was following the group of angry men, held up Arthur's gun belt. It immediately clicked in Javier's mind, but not so much in Lenny's.

"I don't get it," Lenny confided. Javier only held up a hand, motioning for the kid to follow.

"Everyone! Mount up! We have to go save Arthur!" Dutch shouted, and anyone who could shoot was up on their horses. Dutch sat on The Count, patting his neck. The horse snorted in response, "Come on, boy," Dutch whispered into the horses ear. He spurred at the horse's stomach, and he flew off, the rest of the gang quick to follow.


	3. On The Trail

**Authors Note: This chapter was incredibly fun to write, I love to mess with Micah. I know there hasn't been a lot about Sadie and Arthur, but I promise it is coming! :) Sorry if this chapter isn't the best, please leave a review for how I can improve! Your reviews mean so much to me! I made it more prevalent when there is a POV change, so I hope that is helpful:) Enjoy!**

Arthur hung upside down, awaiting what he knew was coming. He heard spurs clang, and boots stomp, getting closer. There must have been at least 3 of them.  
"Arthur Morgan," Colm said, twisting the tip of his knife into Arthurs abdomen. Colm bent down and became face to face with his the closest person to his enemy. His breath reeked, of whiskey and something foul. Arthur could not bring any words to his mouth, so he kept quiet.

"Shit, it really is you!" Colm stood and began to pace around the room. There were two other men at Colm's side, watching with wide eyes. Colm held his hand open, waiting for something. One of the men, if you could call him that, placed a huge bowl of warm stew in Colm's hand. Arthur could hardly see, but he could smell so well. He hadn't eaten in so long, however long it had been since he was taken. Colm took a large bite of his meal, slurping and chewing as loud as possible, making Arthurs' stomach churn.

"You hungry, boy?" Colm asked of Arthur, who could not respond. He forced himself to grunt, setting his throat ablaze. "Come on now, just say it. I'll give it to you, just gotta ask," Colm said, bringing the bowl up to Arthur's nose. Arthur inhaled deeply, he just needed to say one word.

"Stew," Arthur muttered, just barely audible.  
"What's that boy? You want some stew? I'm sorry son, but we're all out!" Colm said with glee. He dumped the bowl of stew on the floor, right in front of Arthur. Some splashed onto his face, but he had no energy to try and lick it. Colm turned towards the door,

"Do whatever you want with him boys, just leave him alive. Dutch is the one we want." With that, he was gone. The two boys turned from their leader to face Arthur. One of the boys looked at Arthur with sad eyes, the other remained emotionless.  
"I'm so sorry, mister," the sad-eyed one began. "I don't want to do this, truly, I don't. But I have to." He took a step closer to Arthur, who shook his head as best he could.

"Please," Arthur muttered. The sad-eyed one couldn't walk any closer, as he almost began to tear up, he shook his head and covered his mouth. He inhaled sharply through his nose and looked back at his companion, who was also pretty young.

"Come on, Billy. We gotta do this, don't you want dinner tonight?" He couldn't have been much over 18, Arthur thought. The sad-eyed one couldn't be more than 14.  
"I'm sorry mister. But please, I have to do this," Billy said again. Arthur could not relent, he didn't think he could push much further. Arthur was not ready to die yet. There was so much he hadn't done. Billy took a knife from his pocket and began to shove it into Arthurs exposed stomach. He twisted the knife and pulled it out with enough force to carry a horse. Arthur had no energy to scream, so he coughed, violently, bringing the taste of blood to his mouth. Billy took a step back, he couldn't turn to face Arthur so he quickly walked away, and handed the knife to the older one. He took three quick paces and reached Arthur. He had much less remorse, he dug his fingertip into Arthur's untreated bullet hole, which gave Arthur the energy to twist and try to get away from the boy, but to no avail. The older boy gave Billy a pat on the back and nodded at him.

"You did good there, Billy, I'm proud of you,"

"Thanks, Riley," Billy said. As the pair walked away, Arthur began to fade out of consciousness. The floor became far away, and table blended into chair, stew into the floor. His eyes fell, and he could not open them any longer.

***POV change***

The gang rode relentlessly to Valentine, trying to find some sort of clue as to where Arthur went. They dispersed across town, the hotel, the saloon, even the stables Sadie had a quick step and made it to the saloon first. She walked up to the bartender, doing her best to remain calm.

"Excuse me, mister. Have you seen a man, by the name of Arthur M-, I mean Callahan?" She asked.

"I'm sorry, Miss. I haven't heard of anyone with that name. What he look like?"

Sadie hesitated, "Uh, about 6'2", brown hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders, always wearing a faded black leather hat with a tan cord wrapped around it?" She could list so many more thing, soft lips, soft hands, handsome features, but decided it best to leave those bits out.

"I did see him a few days back but haven't seen him since then. Stole some poor fellers raccoon hat. Can't say I feel bad though, the bastard was always rattling on about something or other," the bartender said, saying much more than needed.

"Few days back, how many?"

"Seven, I think?" Seven days ago, that was when Arthur and Sadie had kissed. Was this where his drunkenness started?

"Damn, thank you anyway, sir," Sadie shook her head.

"Sorry, Miss! Hope you find your friend," The bartender added as she walked away. Sadie made her way to the center of town, where Dutch, Charles and John had all met.  
"Nothing?" Dutch inclined.

"Nah, nothing," Sadie said. Their hopeful looks disappeared.

"Goddamnit!" Dutch shouted, attracting some dirty looks from the townsfolk. More gang members were meeting up. This was dangerous for the gang, but saving Arthur was their first priority.

"Nobody seen him at the gunsmith," Bill said, as he made his way to the group.

"Nothing at the hotel," Karen said, stomping through the mud.

"It is okay, everyone. We will find him, we just need to keep looking," Dutch addressed the gang. No one was really believing Dutch, except Micah.

"Come on guys, don't be sticks in the mud! Can't we enjoy ourselves for just one night _without _the camp stick in the mud," Micah said. People were already angry about Arthur going missing, what they didn't need was Micah. Lenny gave Micah a hard shove,

"Shut the hell up, Micah? How does that sound?" Lenny asked, not really looking for an answer. Micah fell into the mud, looking up at the gang staring down on them. John came so close to spitting on the fool but used his better judgment to not anger Dutch right now. Even though he was the hardest on Arthur, he also loved him the most.

"We have to keep searching!" Dutch shouted, once again trying to refocus the gang. Everyone made their way to their respective horses, and met up in the center, leaving Micah in the mud to help himself up.  
"I say we go into the heartlands, he was probably hunting," Charles said. Since no one had a better idea, they headed towards the prairie near the camp. As they got close, there was a horse in the middle of the field, grazing on grass. As the gang got closer, they realized who the horse belonged to.

"Promenade!" Charles shouted, never happier to see a horse in his life. The gang pushed even harder to reach the horse. Prom' kept grazing, used to the gang's presence by now. Charles walked up to Promenade, "Hey girl, where's Arthur been?" Charles cooed to the horse. The gang was standing around Charles, watching him talk to the horse. There was a camp, near where Promenade was standing. Most of the gang began to search the camp, there was no food, nothing, other than a dead campfire, and a _lot _of garbage. There was also a bedroll left behind.  
"There's no trail," Charles proclaimed. "Must've been gone a long time." The gang was clearly very disheartened by this news.

"You lot have all gone soft. Why are we going on a wild goose chase for Arthur? Who even cares that he's gone?" Micah laughed, this time, John punched him straight in the face, and after he fell, John proceeded to spit right into Micah's face. Micah stood up and took a swing at John, who ducked right before contact. Before John could get off his second punch, Charles had managed to subdue the men. Dutch was pulling Micah away, Charles was standing in front of John, also ready to swing. Micah rubbed his cheek, where John had punched him.

"Goddamnit Micah, if you're not going to help, why don't you just fuck off?" John yelled, over Charles' shoulder. In the commotion, no one had seen the O'Driscoll ride up to the gang. Soon enough, Sadie felt the cold steel of a rifle being pushed into her head.  
"Guys," Sadie muttered, causing the whole gang to turn their heads. Jaws dropped,

"Hello, Van der Linde, you come lookin' for yer buddy?" The O'Driscoll spat.

Dutch could hardly contain his rage, "You let her go, right now. She ain't do nothin' wrong," Dutch said. "It's me you want, take me," Dutch offered, taking a step closer to the O'Driscoll, who now had his rifle pointed at Dutch. Sadie sprang into Karen's arms and started to cry. Sadie was crying so loud, no one heard John sneak up behind the O'Driscoll.  
"You put that rifle down, right now boy," John whispered, wrapping his arm around the O'Driscoll's neck, pulling his knife up to his throat. The O'Driscoll boy whimpered,

"Please, mister. I'm sorry."

"You tell me where my friend is right now, or I swear to god I'll slit your throat."

he's south of Strawberry, near Bard's Crossing. Please, don't hurt me, mister," the man whimpered. But John did not care, and slit his throat, spurting blood across the nearest members of the gang.

"Near Bard's Crossing. Shit, let's ride!" Dutch bellowed, climbing onto The Count. Charles walked to Promenade and gave her a pat on the neck.  
"Go on girl, get out of her, get back to camp," he said, patting the horse on the butt, who took of in the direction of camp. Charles hopped onto Taima and took off to Bard's Crossing.


	4. Missing Man Now Found?

**Authors Note: Obviously this is one of my favorite missions, with my own spin on it! This chapter was so fun to write, especially with the gunfight. My writing isn't that great, but I hope you still enjoy it! As always, please leave feedback! (PS. The POV jumps around a bit, but I think I did ok with making that more noticeable)**

Charles rode hard across Bard's Crossing, willing Taima to push just a little further. She snorted under the pressure but Charles did not relent. After pushing Taima so hard, when the gang reached a clearing with a good spot to hitch their horses Charles gave his horse a sugar cube and a pat to calm her down.

"Guys! There's a trail!" Charles said, trying as hard as he could not scream. The gang quickly gathered around Charles, each one trying to find anything. But no one had the eye as Charles did. Charles slowly began to follow the faint trail, careful as not to disturb anything. The gang was following Charles, who was crouched on the ground examining the ground closely. He took slow, agonizing steps, each one bringing the gang closer to Arthur. After what seemed to be hours to Sadie, Charles stuck one arm out, signaling the gang to stop.

"What is it?" John whispered.

"The trail gets much bigger here. Multiple horses. We've gotta be close," Charles replied, giving the gang quite the spur of enthusiasm. The pace quickened, the gang was speed walking along the path, not caring anymore about blowing their cover. Even Micah was beginning to be excited, if not for Arthur, then for the firefight that was about to come. Charles stuck his arm out once more, but this time the gang knew why they were stopping. A small cabin in a clearing was made out, O'Driscolls everywhere, some sat by the fire, drinking whiskey, some were passed out in the dirt. There were only 3 guards, each standing by the same tree, chatting like they weren't even supposed to be doing a duty.

"Dirty bastards…" Dutch muttered under his breath. Of course, Dutch was angry, his son had been taken by his greatest enemy, and none of the low-down bastards that did his dirty work had a care in the world. Were they expecting Arthur to not be saved?

Dutch clasped his revolver in his right hand, aiming it straight into the back of an O'Driscoll's head. He took a strong stride forward, entering the camp.

"Listen here, y'bastards. No one has to get shot here. But I will kill all of you myself if I have to. All I want is my friend back," Dutch bellowed, causing heads to spin.

"We can't do that, my friend," shouted one of the guards, raising his rifle to Dutch.

"Don't make me do something I don't want to do," Dutch said. But who was he kidding, he wanted to kill every single O'Driscoll boy in sight. He didn't wait for a response, he pulled the trigger, causing a bullet to snap out of his gun, heading straight for an O'Driscolls head.

***POV Change* (Arthur)**

Arthur's eyes snapped open to the sound of voices outside. There was a man yelling something. His voice seemed so familiar to Arthur, but his head was so cloudy he couldn't make it out. The boy keeping guard stood up at once. He began to sprint to the stairs, before snapping around to Arthur.

"Don't you move a muscle, Mister," the boy said before running up the stairs. Arthur was perfectly content with staying where he was, he had no energy left to even try and escape. All of a sudden, Arthur heard the head splitting sound of a gun cracking, and watched as the body of the boy who just spoke down to him, came crashing down the stairs, lifeless. Blood stained the floor crimson as the boy lay limp and pale. God damn, Arthur thought. Next came a barrage of gunshots, enough to make Arthurs head almost fall of his shoulders. Arthur couldn't take any more, so he slammed his eyes shut, willing his ears to close too.

***POV Change* (Dutch)**

The gang began firing rounds left and right, dodging bullets and splintering wood as the O'Driscolls began firing right back at the gang. Dutch poked his head around a barrel getting shot to hell,

"What we doin' here, Dutch?" Lenny asked, just a few feet away. A bullet just nearly missed Lenny's head as he leaned over to speak. He quickly peeked over the barrel and placed a bullet right between the shooter's eyes.

"Arthur has to be in that basement! We need to get down there!" Dutch shouted, over all of the bullets being fired, and wood cracking. Time seemed to slow down for him. He peeked around the barrel and caught a glimpse of Sadie working her way towards the basement. One O'Driscoll tried to tackle her, knife in hand, but before he even got near, Sadie shot him multiple times in the chest. Another O'Driscoll tried to grab her from behind, but she ducked out of the way and put a bullet straight into the clumsy oafs head. Sadie was a woman on a mission. John was following behind her, but he had to stop much more often, every few seconds or so, to shoot an O'Driscoll or punch him in the face. Dutch opened fire on a group of O'Driscolls squatting around a log, easily hitting each one in the head because of their horrible cover. Dutch stopped shooting for just a moment, as he watched his gang fight for the life of his son, risking their own necks for him. Dutch wondered if the gang would do the same for him, but was quickly reassured when he thought of Arthur directing the gang, yelling something or other about saving Dutch. Dutch smiled, and looked once again towards the basement, and watched as Sadie was practically dragging Arthur out of the basement.

***POV Change* (Sadie)**

Sadie bolted down the steep stairs as fast as she could, feeling each step bringing her closer to Arthur. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, her heart stopped. She saw Arthur, hanging upside down by his feet, in nothing but his orange union suit. His eyes were glued shut, his arms hung heavily off his body, grazing the hard ground. His undergarments were covered in blood; on his stomach there were multiple cuts, some just looked like the tips of knives, some had gone all the way through. There was blood covering the ground, Sadie couldn't stop staring at this version of Arthur. He was nowhere near comparable to the man she kissed just one week ago. He had lost a ton of weight. Sadie could count his ribs, each one protruding more than the last.

Sadie carefully cut Arthur down, as not to drop him directly on his head. As he lay on the ground, still limp, Sadie began to get worried, was he still alive? Sadie bent down and lay a hand to Arthurs' heart, his skin felt cool to the touch. His heart thumped faintly behind his bony chest, and Sadie sighed one of relief. Arthur's eyes cracked open just slightly, he saw Sadie, like an angel taking him away. Arthur's eyes closed contently again, waiting for the inevitable. Sadie grabbed the corners of Arthur's shirt and shook him hard. His eyes cracked open again, staying open for longer. Sadie began to try and pull Arthur up by the collar of his shirt.

"Come on, Arthur! Please!" She shouted to herself. Sadie managed to get Arthur sitting up. She crouched down, still holding his limp body up. "Arthur, please. I need your help. We need to get out of here, now, or else we're all going to die," Arthur mumbled something unintelligible. He did his best to help Sadie pull him up, but he was mostly useless. All of a sudden, John crept down the stairs, gun cocked.

"Help me, John, please," Sadie pleaded. Her forehead was drenched in sweat, her hair once in a tight braid was now loosely sticking to her forehead, weighed down by her hat.

"Who's saving who now, Morgan?" John chuckled.

"Goddamnit John! I don't give a damn about your little feud, just help me get him up. John reluctantly positioned himself opposite Sadie. They managed to haul Arthur up; as skinny as he had gotten, he was still pretty damn heavy. Sadie wrapped Arthur's arm around her shoulder, John doing the same with his other arm. They managed to get Arthur, tripping and stumbling, up the stairs, dragging his feet and stopping to catch his breath every few steps. By the time the pair emerged from the basement, the fire had ceased. The gang began to poke their heads from behind their spots of cover. Charles was the first to notice the pair carrying Arthur. He ran towards them to help,

"Let me take over," he motioned to Sadie, trying to take Arthurs arm.

"No!" Sadie snapped. Charles stepped back, sensing something strange between Sadie and Arthur. The gang began to crowd around the dazed man.

"Arthur!" Dutch shouted, running up to his boy. He grabbed Arthur's face, trying to lift it from it's slumped position. Next was Karen, who pulled Arthur into a tight hug. This, of course, made Sadie uncomfortable and insecure. She shifted her weight, beginning to feel the true weight of Arthur. The rest of the gang was coming towards them, to greet the practically unconscious man she was holding up. Her knees began to buckle, she was about to drop Arthur, she needed help.

Luckily, Charles came to her rescue just in time, taking the spot Sadie was in. As the gang began to form a circle around their lost brother, now found, Sadie felt extremely uncomfortable. She felt strange. She had just risked her life, snapped at not one, but two of her only friends in the gang, and almost cried over a man who had drunk kissed her once, who had smiled at her once. Who didn't even like her back. She turned her back on the gang, none of whom even noticed she was leaving. She jumped onto her horse, and kicked its stomach, ushering it to move forward, to start the long ride back to camp.  
Sadie was once a confident girl, never unsure of her actions, never had any regrets. But Arthur did something to her, drove her crazy. She would do anything for him, and he didn't even like her back. Or did he?


End file.
